"That suits you," Elliot said, nodding toward a gray Ferrari waiting in the underground garage.
I didn't overthink it. I adjusted the seat, familiarizing myself with the steering wheel's weight and the subtle hum of Alpha-level engineering embedded in the machine. Behind me, I could feel Elliot's gaze lingering through the glass—quiet, observant, almost like he was marking my movement before I left his territory.
I started the engine and drove out.
At the same time, Francis stepped out from the Tillman Residence, his presence carrying the steady authority of an established pack elder heading into a structured gathering of his domain. The air around him felt composed, controlled, like someone who had long mastered the politics of pack hierarchy.
Just then, Erica returned from breakfast with Hayley.
"Where are you going, Dad?" Erica asked.
"To the company," Francis replied calmly. "There's a year-end inventory meeting today."
